Poetry | June 01, 2009

Featuring the poems:



A new song.  A carol, say, to constancy — not the Northstar’s stubborn pivot, boring nightlong through the pole, but the modest steadfastness of the Big Dipper. Draw a line across its basin, star to star and then beyond the constellation till you find, near-invisible, true North.  Selfless gesture, at every hour to point and point away to some obscure and ever-fixèd mark, to be prized for pure devotion,for how it bears the gaze away . . . Isn’t that how it is, in love as in war: someone gets to pull the wagon, and someone, girding his smallness in glittering mail, gets to be Charlemagne.

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